Remembering My Father

Today, I am remembering my father, Roger. He was a decent and hardworking man, who grew up during the Depression in Whittier, a small suburb in East Los Angeles. Father (yes, that is what I called him) was a Quaker, nature enthusiast, a weight lifter on Muscle Beach, and a gardener.
He tried to live by the motto he kept inscribed on a sheet of paper under the glass on his desk: "Do right and fear no man." I believe he did so to the best of his ability.

My father shared with me his love for gardening, Big Band music, and the Lakers. He taught me how to drive (I don't know how we both lived through that), properly cook a steak (it's all about the heat of the pan and garlic salt), the finer points of ballroom dancing, and how to argue--over just about everything. He also taught me patience and a love for animals (he is pictured in a nice shot from 1960 with our Boxer, King). Did I mention patience?

Father, I love you and miss you with all my heart.